TheBanyanTree: Nothing wrong with a good Wuther

[John Bailey]

Thursday November 13, 2003

NOTHING WRONG WITH A GOOD WUTHER

I got up for a while to sit in the study window watching the rain wash 
past. The last of the oak leaves have been stripped in the gales and have 
blown away, out of sight, and out of mind. Now the wind is busy rolling up 
little piles of fallen twigs on the drive and, when they present enough of 
a challenge, scattering them off down the road in clusters of stick men 
like hill tribes looking for a fight. And all the while, wind fingers are 
searching through the beds and along the edges, seeking out the small 
communities of leaves trying to make a go of it for the winter, just for 
the company you understand. No sympathy here, either, and a series of small 
whirlwinds dance each small drift away in a series of dervish twirlings.

Graham had been dreading the final clear-up of leaves and twigs so I'm 
doubly pleased that my advice to leave it a while and see what develops has 
turned out so well. Nature is a darn sight better and more thorough than 
any yard broom when it comes to clearing up leaves. Let's face it, she's 
been at the job a good while longer.

I pressed my nose to the window to watch our new postman trudging up the 
hill, head down against the wind and rain. He has all the appearance of 
being a good bloke, young, steady and reliable. I don't blame him for a 
moment in preferring a baseball cap over the traditional postman's hat, but 
I hope it'll not be too long before he discovers that trainers, no matter 
how well made, are no substitute for a decent pair of leather shoes or 
boots when it comes to a walking job.

A mug of coffee appeared at my side.

"Gosh, thanks! Just what the doctor ordered."

"What are you doing there, then?"

"Just looking out, observing and pondering."

"Pondering what, for instance?"

"Oh, like if Kate Bush ever listens to her version of Heathcliff and 
wonders what the hell she could have been on when she made it."

"That's not pondering, that's Wuthering."

"Nothing wrong with a good Wuther."

"Drink your coffee before it gets cold."


--
John Bailey   Carmarthenshire, Wales
journal of a writing man
<http://www.oldgreypoet.com>